Every few weeks I find myself scrolling through Etsy looking for gothy and horror-themed cross stitch ideas. I usually get impatient and quit before I find anything really good. I’m also not great at designing things myself, so I have a serious lack of spooky stitchwork in my life. Well, I did until a few days ago, when the goth stitch Facebook group approved my membership. Now my life is full of amazingly spooky embroidery patterns and I want them all RIGHT NOW.

I’ve been looking and dreaming and planning, and suddenly a thought struck me. I’d never really seen it this way before, but my love of dark things and my obsession with arts and crafts both come from the church I grew up in. I may have mentioned I grew up Mormon during the Satanic Panic of the 1980s. I was taught that ouija boards and horror movies (and maybe heavy metal) could genuinely open you up to demonic possession. By high school I was pretty sure that was bullshit, but all things dark and occult still had a powerful hold on my imagination. Even back then I knew conquering my fear was part of the thrill, and all the warnings only stoked my curiosity.

Most people don’t know much about Mormons, but those who do won’t be that surprised that they frown on ouija boards and horror movies. What you may not know is that Mormons don’t just huddle in their houses and pray that Satan doesn’t come knocking. They also do arts and crafts. So many arts and crafts. Well, the females do.*

My childhood was full of craftsy church activities–we sewed, knitted, painted, made fabric-covered scrapbooks, did handmade cards and Christmas ornaments–and even as an adult we had craft nights at least once a month. At one of these craft nights, sometime in my late 20s, a fellow Mormon sheepishly showed me her copy of the “Stitch and Bitch Knitter’s Handbook,” apologizing for the foul language on the cover. I ran right out and bought a copy for myself, and that’s how I learned to knit.

Even as a kid, I should have known I was bad at being Mormon. I mean, there was the obvious problem that hearing about demons was supposed to make me like witchcraft and horror less, not more. But more than that, my arts and crafts were off. Everyone else covered their scrapbooks in tasteful (for the ’80’s anyway) floral fabric, while I went for zebra print. the other girls were nice about it, but they thought I was weird. Over zebra print.

You can guess how well my Nine Inch Nails CDs and Salvador Dali prints went over with my Mormon roommates in college. Or how much my Mormon neighbors liked the restful headstones I painted on my window a few years later.

I don’t know why I stuck so long with a church that couldn’t even handle zebra print. I’m just stubborn, I guess. There’s a history to Mormonism, a pioneer heritage and identity that go along with membership, and when people told me in subtle ways that I didn’t fit in with the cult(ure), it felt like they were denying me the heritage and history I’m entitled to.

But this is getting a bit heavy for a post about cross stitch. I’ll skip over the painful soul searching and emotional processing and get back to the crafty stuff. I don’t really know why Mormons are so artsy craftsy. Some of it is their “traditional womanhood” ideals, for sure, and Some of it was preparation for the end of the world–Mormons were preppers way before there were TV shows about it. Some is that DIY pioneer spirit we were taught about on Sundays. Partly, it’s just a pleasant way to connect with people. As my discomfort with the church’s politics and doctrines grew, it helped that sometimes we could just knit or make Christmas cards and I didn’t have to talk.

Whatever it was for, I’ve done arts and crafts my whole life. I used to think I wasn’t that good at them, but I was probably selling myself short. It’s easy to do when you grow up in a church full of Pinterest goddesses. But I come from the same hardy pioneer stock they do, so I shouldn’t be surprised that knitting socks and crocheting blankets comes naturally to me. My even stitching and neatly woven ends would do them proud. Even if all my other life choices had them praying for my poor lost soul. You know, the way my Mormon friends and family do now.

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